


there's a 10% chance

by ang3lba3



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Car Accidents, M/M, Sadstuck, ambiguous ending, implied major character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 16:42:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6292159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ang3lba3/pseuds/ang3lba3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave and Karkat get in a car accident. </p><p>(The hospital can be a lonely place.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's a 10% chance

**Author's Note:**

> this is thanks to mectohoney, who prompted me with #9 of the kiss meme for Dave and Karkat. Im not as sorry as i should be
> 
> on tumblr at [this gorgeous blog ;)](ang3lba3.tumblr.com)

The hospital is quiet, in that way that only loud places can be.

It’s not that there’s not _noise -_ there’s noise everywhere. The little girl screaming two curtain partitions down, the frantic beeping of a heart monitor and the alarms that accompany it going too high. The alarms that come from another monitor going too low. 

You lays on your bed and tries not to think too hard about who’s laying in the one beside you. It doesn’t matter. You think too hard about Dave anyways, about the push of air from his oxygen mask into his lax airways, about the way his fingers felt wrapped around yours seconds before the truck hit. 

(You’ve never been a fan of red pick up trucks, thought they were aggressive drivers and bigoted red necks’ favorite vehicle and this really isn’t helping out any of those prejudices.)

In not thinking so hard, you somehow fall asleep.

Something taps you on the arm, and you struggle to consciousness, eyes syrup slow in your skull. It hurts, it physically _hurts_ to drag yourself out of sleep, but you do it because the tapping is getting more insistent and yup that right there could even be considered a shake.

“What the fuck do you want?” you say, mouth cottony and dry, voice cracked and generally not as threatening as you’d like.

“We’re taking him in for surgery,” the nurse says patiently, hand still on your arm. She looks familiar, but the ID has letters that are too small and too difficult to read.

“Shit,” you say as her words penetrate your thick fucking head and you almost fall out of bed trying to get to Dave. She helps you there, and you see that he’s weakly awake. He says something that’s blocked by the oxygen mask, and the nurse helpfully slips it off of him for a moment. Seems irresponsible, but you suppose he’s breathing fine enough on his own.

“Hey, babe,” he rasps out.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” you hiss, because you don’t know how else to deal with the massive amount of fear you’re feeling right now. 

“I know,” is all he says, and he puckers his lips. “Come on, give me some of that sexual healing before they send me back to sleep.”

You groan, and would face palm except you’re pretty sure your nose is broken and your palms are scraped to hell. You must take too long, because Dave starts to sing the song under his breath.

“Fine! Fine,” you say, and lean in, press a kiss to his lips that is softer than the tone you use when you speak again. “If you die I’ll… I’ill fucking kill you.”

“Not your best threat,” Dave notes, but he tosses you a weak peace sign as the nurse re-attaches the mask. 

She escorts you back to your bed, and you put your head in your hands. 

“How bad is this?” you whisper, because you don’t want Dave to hear, you want him to go into this with every synapse fighting, not having already given up.

“There’s a 75% chance that he’ll never walk again,” she says lowly. “10% that the surgery will be fatal.”

You make a quiet, hurt noise, but when you glance over the anesthesiologist is already finishing an injection into the IV and Dave is knocked out cold. It doesn’t matter, you get up anyways. The nurse seems like she wants to protest but instead escorts you to his side.

You pick up his hand, press it to your face, cover it with little kisses, right up until your knees give out and you have to go back to your bed. 

Staying awake would have been the appropriate thing to do, probably, the kind of thing that characters in your romance novels would have done.

Instead, you fall asleep, and in the morning you wake up in a room that isn’t the ER. When you glance over to your right, the bed is empty.

**Author's Note:**

> so i would like y'all to know that dave is probably just using the toilet and karkat screams when as he's staring at the bed and his world is shattered there's the flush of a toilet and the curtain opens to display Dave levering himself into a wheelchair with those stupid sunglasses on (even tho theyre cracked all to hell from when his head slammed into the steering wheel) and he pauses, arms shaking from the strain of an awkward position to stare at karkat and go
> 
> sup


End file.
